


a time for forgiveness?

by LANTE



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Anger, Dark Character, F/M, Hurt, Light Angst, Regret, cheesy fic, old gem i found sitting on my computer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LANTE/pseuds/LANTE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the lone wanderer ponders on her past actions and is confronted by butch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a time for forgiveness?

The Lone Wanderer sat on the flightdeck of Rivet City, admiring the sunset, forgetting her loneliness for a moment. There was no one on the flight deck, and Butch was probably just down in the marketplace styling the hair of some hot young ladies, or perhaps drinking at the Muddy Rudder?

Not like she'd care, however. She'd just taken him across the Wastes to Rivet City, that's all. Not like she was going to venture any further trough with him - what use would she have of a hairdresser (and a Tunnel Snake) anyway?

She wasn't sure if he'd like to travel with her either - who'd like to travel with a thief, a raider and slaver? She'd just get him into trouble.

 She sighted, and aimed her gaze at the Jefferson Memorial. Something wet drifted down her cheek. She wiped it away and with it, any kind of feelings. But deep inside she missed her father. 

_"Honey, you seem troubled, like there's a cloud hanging over you."_ He had told her - as if he'd heard about all the terrible things she had done. Then he'd promised to help her - help her be good again, help her to cope with everything.

Now it was too late.

All her time in the Wastes she'd tried to suppress her hateful feelings because she felt ashamed. So she joined the slavers, the raiders, taking many lives as she went. 

Killing was her favourite way to suppress the feelings. The adrenaline - knowing you had stolen someone's life - it kept her cool, keeping any sensible thoughts from crossing her mind.

Only at times like this did she allow herself to feel a little bit. Just enough for her to remember that she was still alive.

Then all the scary feelings came rolling in.

First of all regret. Regret for all the lives she'd taken.

Secondly fear. The fear of everything, really. Something so deep within her she was afraid to really inspect, afraid of being consumed by its darkness, making it hard to really define. But there it was, eating every bit of her, slowly, but surely.

Third came hate. She hated the Overseer for trying to control everyone in the vault. She hated herself - even thought she hadn't realised it just yet.

She wrapped her arms around her feet, and rested her head on her knees. She felt sick. Or maybe she was overwhelmed? She didn't have time to ponder about it however, as she heard steps behind her.

“Zoe, sure you're alright?” It was Butch. He sat carefully down beside her, and she lifted her head to face him. There was worry in his voice, which was something she had never heard from him before. It was unexpected, and made her kinda happy. A small smirk spread across her face as she turned her head back to the memorial.

“I'm okay” she whispered, trying to sound a bit reassuring.

“Why are you staring at that building?” he asked, pointing with his index finger, the rays of setting sunlight distorting the figure.

At that moment she realised that she hadn't told him about James’ death. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to do so.

“It's a long story” she replied. She hadn't really talked about this with anyone, and had merely spoken to Madison after his death. She tried to avoid her, not being able to face someone who reminded her of her father as much as she did.

“C'mon, you can tell me! I know something’s wrong with you, you haven't been the same since you left the Vault!” he said, trying to persuade her into telling him, folding his arms across his chest.

“Butchie” she smirked using the nickname he hated “is it worry I hear in your voice?” 

But it seemed Butch couldn't hear the sarcasm in her voice.

“C'mon, I ain't stupid! I can see something's wrong! Yes, I'm worried about you... you saved my life out there - I - you helped me survive, and I know I treated you like crap down there... I apologize, and I want you to be alright.” 

She turned to carefully inspect the man- no, the boy who had bullied her her whole life, who had just apologised for the suffering he had caused her. Did he really think he was going to get off the porch that easy? That she could forgive him that easily?

But he was worried about her - which didn’t sound like the old Butch at all. Was there change in the air? Had he really changed that much after she left for the Wastes? But what about her changing out here? Maybe there was some truth to what he said, that she wasn’t the same anymore. Back in the Vault she'd feel sick just from the thought of blood, but out here - all the people that had died by her hand... 

Back in the vault she had been innocent.

Out here she had become a sinner.

She met his eyes, but he turned away, gazing at the sunset again. She inspected his profile, the nose, the hair, once nicely cut and filled with hairspray was now messy and badly brushed. His skin was kissed by the Wasteland sun, with some burnt skin on his nose. He wasn't the boy she'd known down in 101, he was a man. That she allowed herself to admit. And she was filled by a funny feeling of some strange warmth in the pit of her stomach.

She had to test him a bit before giving in.

“But I thought you hated me, now you’re saying you’re worried?” she asked, analyzing every motion on his face. She saw something she thought was regret.

Regret of what?

Regret of losing his pride and apologizing, or regret of being such an ass towards her trough all those years?

“What, don't tell me you really thought I hated you?” Butch turned to look at her, with a small grinn of disbelief. “I think you’re overreacting -“ 

“So all the times you told me nasty things, broke my stuff - all the times you bullied me, was all for nothing?” she snapped. The anger burnt inside of her. Butch stared at her with puppy eyes, and it looked like her words had broken him, and for a moment she felt sorry for him. Then the anger filled her again.

“You ruined my life back there” she whispered, her voice small like it was going to break at any moment. “You made it like hell.” 

"Oh c'mon Nosebleed!" Butch tried, but the words rang all bitter in her ears.

_ Nosebleed. _ Oh there it was again. And she turned her gaze to the memorial again. 

Maybe now wasn’t the time for forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for my friend val (fandomshitstorm on tumblr) for being so kind and proof-reading my fic


End file.
